


October 5th, 2016

by IMAgentMI



Series: October Microfic-a-Day Project [5]
Category: Red vs. Blue
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-05
Updated: 2016-10-05
Packaged: 2018-08-19 18:12:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8220280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IMAgentMI/pseuds/IMAgentMI
Summary: Maine lost his team on the way to the rendezvous point.





	

Maine’s head rang with the explosion and he saw rock and bits of brick fly past the wall he was hunkered behind.  He’d lost sight of his team about five minutes ago, but according to his HUD, the rendezvous point wasn’t far. He wasn’t worried. Or at least he wasn’t until the dust started to clear. 

A familiar brown armoured figure appeared in the haze, lying prone and still on the ground. Maine’s eyes went wide as he heard the crack of a sniper rifle, saw dirt kick up a foot from Connie’s head.

He didn’t think - he was moving faster than thought.  He burst from his cover, pounding over the open ground, aware of every agonizing second, racing a sniper reloading. At full speed he twisted slightly, stooped as low as he could to reach her.  

He was mere feet away when he saw the next bullet hit Connie’s body.

He braced to take her weight, ready to scoop her up, hoping against hope that once he got her to safety that he could save her, that she’d be okay.  

His hands passed right through her.

His weight was too far forward now and he stumbled, leaping into a dive to avoid falling flat on his face.  He hit the ground and rolled into shadow, into the lee of a wall, out of sun and sight.  He had almost come to a stop when he hit something solid.  It said, “Ooof.”

Maine lifted his head, found himself staring at the same familiar brown armour as the hologram that was still lying behind him in the dust. Connie stood from her crouch, offered Maine her hand, and helped pull him to his feet. 

“I saw.  Sorry.  And thanks.”  Connie pressed her shoulder to his, rested her head against him for the briefest moment - the closest you could come to a hug on a battlefield while holding a gun with the safety off.

Gun. Shit. Maine turned to look behind where he’d dropped his as he ran. There was a third rifle shot, but closer, and this time without a corresponding explosion of soil.  He ventured a look just in time to see the enemy sniper tumble from his perch in a broken window. He spared a grateful thought for North as he sprinted for his gun.  Connie waited in the shadows for him to return, and together they ran on.


End file.
